Cormac pulled the unconscious man away from Luna. She ran her tongue across her lips as a few precious drops slid down her chin. The metal collar was firmly around her neck. It's pressure and weight was ever present on the edge of the gangrel's conscious mind. She supposed one of the Dragons would go on and on about what it symbolized according to this author or that if she were to mention it.
The opium enriched blood pulsed through her. She focused on the flame that burned on the other side of the room. Luna could feel the Wolf prowling back and forth in her skull. It sensed an opportunity to break free was near and it's tongue lulled out of it's pink frothy maw.
Dance & Sing, fail
She started to sing softly and moving, tracing steps to bring on the ecstasy. But the collar too tight, the chain too short and she stumbled. The world shifted and glowed with the opium and she sank to the floor. She lay sprawled out with her hair covering her face, shoulders and back like a roll of brown, earthy cloth. It's curls were like the folds of a rumpled sheets.
She whispered in her mother's tongue, the names and the songs. As she drew inward the Wolf crept closer and then it burst into motion and bounded forward in a snarl. On the floor she slowly started to writhe. The Wolf strained against her skull, causing her to physically roll away from the wall and the chain that anchored her to it. She retreated more from the sensations of her body. The fabric on her skin, her hair tugging at her scalp as she rolled over it, the flickers of pain as her fingers tried to find purchase on the floor boards and tore bloody gashes into the wood. The Wolf snapped and howled, trying to drive it's muzzle through her nose cavity. The snarls and grunts that escaped Luna's throat were muffled and muted by the iron band collar.
Luna felt the front of her skull fracture under the weight of the Wolf's determination, like the web like pattern that happens with glass. The squeezing pain of self-strangulation passed from her mind as the Wolf drove her body forward useless against the chain anchoring her to the wall. Behind the flame Polikarpov stood, it's light cast sharp reliefs on his un-moving features. The flame faded then and with it the Grand Wyrm and the rest of the room. But an after image of the elder's face remained and in the darkness it hung as the merest of phantoms.
A piece of bone popped out and Wolf drove it's snout into the opening like a chick does trying to escape an egg. Luna stood motionless in the darkness, listening to the wind that softly blew inside her. The Wolf scratched it's claws against the fractured interior of her skull, trying to dislodge more of her to escape. But no more of her broke under it's assault. The bone did not give way and the Wolf howled in frustration. Luna stand insider herself, watching silently as it threw itself against her skull, against her will.
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